A Lethargic Life in the Pacific Northwest
by xhosa
Summary: It's Thaddeus Gammelthorpe's 23rd birthday. With his mind deteriorating from various disorders and drug abuse, he ends up having a mental breakdown. Rated T for drug use, swearing, and violence.
1. 23 Years

_Author's Note: As I am once again active on this site, I decided to write more often, so, here; I hope you enjoy._

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23 years.

It was hard to believe that, for nearly a quarter of a century, Thaddeus Gammelthorpe had been a citizen of the Pacific Northwest. All these years in Washington, and he still didn't feel any better. He managed to get himself out of bed, and he sauntered over to the restroom. He completed his usual routine: he brushed his teeth, showered, took his Ativan and his Lithium, and combed his hair. However, to "treat" himself on his birthday, he decided to shave his head. No, he didn't think he looked good. At least he changed his style for once, he thought. As he dressed himself, his cell phone rang.

His ex-wife was calling. There was nothing fun about having a divorce in his early-20's. He never wanted to think about the bitter ending of that relationship. Nothing would ruin his day, even if it was a kind gesture. He let his phone ring, and he put on his glasses. It was off to work. He took the subway to his job in Seattle. On his iPod, he was listening to the sublime sounds of Omar Souleyman, and reading the day's copy of The Seattle Times.

Of course he got stares. He was used to it. As his parents told him for all of his life, he was very "unique." Whenever he felt dejected, his mother would tell him "Thaddeus, you are special. You have a very unique mind that sets you apart from everyone else." He was different alright. Different in a way that made him feel socially and mentally retarded. The doctors could call it whatever they wanted, but he was tired of their shit.

He got off the subway and pulled his earbuds out of his ears. He purchased a black coffee from a vendor within the station. Leaving the station, he noticed a group of local schoolchildren staring at him and whispering among themselves. He turned around and ignored them. To hell with them. He faced a twelve block trek to his job. He worked as a cashier at a vegan cafe. No, he wasn't vegan, but he had to find something to pay the bills. Upon entering the establishment, he was once again a victim of verbal harassment by his boss.

"There better not be any milk in your coffee, Thad, or you're outta here asshole!" she shouted before he even made his way through the door.

"Ma'am, I can assure you this coffee is milk-free" he said sarcastically as he tied his apron on.

The coffeehouse had only hired him out of urgency. Within days of working, his coworkers found out about him not being vegan, and thus began a harassment campaign against him. They pretty much blackmailed him into staying, threatening to "ruin" him. He had enough. It was his day today, and nobody was going to fuck with him. Between the call from his ex-wife and the kids staring at him, he was already losing his mind. He dealt with this on a day to day basis, but today was the wrong day to piss him off.

He slip the pin attached to his name tag through his apron, clipped it, and stood behind the counter. The other employees were completing prep. His mind blank, he reached into his pocket and searched around with his fingers. Something rattled once he tapped it. Confused, he pulled out his half-empty bottle of Ativan. He examined the bottle. He read his name, printed on to the side. He needed to refill the bottle soon. He had some other drugs stuffed into the small bottle for "safe keeping," such as Prozac and a few Xanax bars. He didn't intend on bringing his stash to work, and had only brought it as an absent minded mistake. He quietly pulled off the cap and grabbed a Xanax bar. He quickly stuff it into his mouth before his boss could notice. He downed it with the last of his coffee as the cafe opened for business.


	2. Xanax and a Phone Call

It took 15 minutes for the euphoria to kick in. He didn't like to do Xanax often, as to avoid addiction, but on special occasions like today, Curly deemed it appropriate. After staring into space for a while, he had his trance interrupted by his coworkers once again.

"Thaddeus, what the hell are you doing? There's a line you idiot!" His boss yelled at him, again. Snapping out of his trip for a moment, he realize a decently-sized line had formed in front of the register. He looked towards the front of the line, only to see a young man glaring at him.

"Sorry sir, welcome to Café de Merde, how may I..." Curly trailed off, staring into the ceiling.

"Can I just have a damn coffee already?!" the man shouted out of agitation and impatience.

The rest of the encounters Curly had with customers went similarly, if not a little better. Curly felt serenity in the drug he took. The high was comparable to being in a soft, comfortable bed, awaiting a peaceful sleep. Though he was standing up with the intention of working hard, he was in a tranquil haze, with the outside world having little to no negative impact on his positive mental attitude. No matter how many disparaging comments were hurled at him from customers and coworkers, he felt warm and safe inside.

After 3 hours of taking orders and pouring hot beverages and cold drinks, Curly felt as if he was floating when he walked outside for his smoke break. He had a hard time focusing on anything up to that point, even something as minuscule as selecting a cigarette from the pack. He slipped his earbuds back into his ears. Instead of hearing his music, he was greeted with an obnoxious "Low Battery" warning. At that moment, his eyes shot open. He was back in reality. The high wore off, and he felt the pleasant effects abandon him. Once again, he felt coldness inside.

At that moment, his cell phone rang once again. He knew that he didn't even need to guess who was calling. Reluctantly, and out of bitterness, he answered the call.

"There, I picked up the goddamn phone, now what do you want?!" he shouted into the device.

"Hello to you too, Thaddeus. I was just calling to wish you a happy birthday." His ex-wife was more or less teasing him at this point. She was extremely condescending. "So, I hope you enjoy your day; I know my boyfriend and I will." That set Curly off.

"You know what, I'm sick of hearing from you. I don't know why you get off to this, but leave me alone you narcissistic cunt!" he responded, practically screaming at her.

"Hey, I was just trying to be a _good friend_." She responded with a laugh. Curly was officially done.

"Listen up you evil bitch, if you or your retarded boyfriend ever contact me again, I will fucking kill you!" he screeched. Suddenly, he heard another voice on the line.

"What's with all the ruckus, babe?" a male voice asked obliviously.4

"Harold, it's nothing" Curly's former lover said to her current significant other.

"Nothing?! FUCK YOU RHONDA!" he exploded, hurling his cell phone into the street. He watched as an 18-wheeler proceeded to completely destroy the phone beyond recognition. At first, he didn't realize it, but as he looked around, he began to notice the massive commotion he had caused.

"All of you, fuck off!" he shouted at the decently-sized crowd. With that, everyone returned to their business, except for one person. His boss.

"Thaddeus, what the hell was that all about? You're causing customers to leave, idiot! Are you mental?" His boss ranted. Curly gritted his teeth, and answered with a yes under his breath.

"As of right now, I am terminating your employment."


End file.
